At the beginning of September, 1912, the family left for the Forest of Bielovesa,[3] where they spent a fortnight, and then proceeded to Spala[4] for a longer visit. M. Petrof and I joined them there at the end of September. Shortly after my arrival the Czarina told me she wanted me to take Alexis Nicolaïevitch also. I gave him the first lesson on October 2nd in the presence of his mother. The child was then eight and a half. He did not know a word of French, and at first I had a good deal of difficulty. My lessons were soon interrupted, as the boy, who had looked to me ill from the outset, soon had to take to his bed. Both my colleague and myself had been struck by his lack of colour and the fact that he was carried as if he could not walk.[5] The disease from which he was suffering had evidently taken a turn for the worse. A few days later it was whispered that his condition was giving rise to extreme anxiety, and that Professors Rauchfuss and Fiodrof had been summoned from St. Petersburg. Yet life continued as before; one shooting-party succeeded another, and the guests were more numerous than ever. One evening after dinner the Grand-Duchesses Marie and Anastasie Nicolaïevna gave two short scenes from the _Bourgeois Gentilhomme_ in the dining-room before Their Majesties, the suite, and several guests. I was the prompter, concealed behind a screen which did duty for the wings. By craning my neck a little I could see the Czarina in the front row of the audience smiling and talking gaily to her neighbours. When the play was over I went out by the service door and found myself in the corridor opposite Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s room, from which a moaning sound came distinctly to my ears. I suddenly noticed the Czarina running up, holding her long and awkward train in her two hands. I shrank back against the wall, and she passed me without observing my presence. There was a distracted and terror-stricken look in her face. I returned to the dining-room. The scene was of the most animated description. Footmen in livery were handing round refreshments on salvers. Everyone was laughing and exchanging jokes. The evening was at its height. A few minutes later the Czarina came back. She had resumed the mask and forced herself to smile pleasantly at the guests who crowded round her. But I had noticed that the Czar, even while engaged in conversation, had taken up a position from which he could watch the door, and I caught the despairing glance which the Czarina threw him as she came in. An hour later I returned to my room, still thoroughly upset at the scene which had suddenly brought home to me the tragedy of this double life. Yet, although the invalid’s condition was still worse, life had apparently undergone no change. All that happened was that we saw less and less of the Czarina. The Czar controlled his anxiety and continued his shooting-parties, while the usual crowd of guests appeared at dinner every evening.